Ultimate Teaspoon of Sugar
by Parad0xotaur
Summary: Solona Amell concocts a solution to accommodate Alistair's positional suggestion. Alistair/F!Amell. Fluffy one-shot. Rated M.


**A/N**: Alistair/F!Amell. Fluffy one-shot. Rated M.

In response to the following k!meme prompt -

"_Serial filler/first-time prompter would love to read about Alistair and a woman he cares about, preferably human due to mechanics, discovering 69. Maybe it's her idea and he's embarrassed, maybe they've been together a while and it's his idea and he's totally enthused - totally up to anon, I'm just looking for some hot, in-character smut starring these two._

_Bonus points if (a) F!LI was never that thrilled about giving oral due to the "disposal" issue but finds that 69 is the ultimate teaspoon of sugar that helps the medicine go down ;-) and/or (b) there is some anal play by one or both parties."_

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><p>Solona startled, spilling some of the ice salve, as Alistair turned the key and walked into their suite. "Honey, I'm home!" he announced with a smile.<p>

"Hello, love! How are you?" she warmly called, trying to quickly finish her surprise for him.

After setting his pack down, Alistair crossed the room and rounded the corner to the vanity were she was working. "Much better now that I'm here with-"

Alistair stood slack-jawed.

Solona was wearing a dark blue shift. It looked Chasind but nicer...**a lot** nicer.

Deeply cut in the front.

High cut on sides.

Rich cloth and...supple leather.

Leaning from him for a reagent, he could also see she that wasn't wearing any _knickers_.

"Oh, dammit," she said, turning to face him and puffing errant bangs from her eyes.

"What?" he asked alarmed, thinking, "_**Please**__-tell-me-I-didn't-mess-up-something-__awesome__!_"

She smiled, set down the concentrator flask, and walked over to take his hands. "I wanted to surprise you but it's not quite ready. And neither am I." She blew the disheveled hair out of her face again.

"I don't know **what** you are talking about because," he paused to step back and look at her, "you look... _amazing_."

Solona grinned, curtsied (making her cleavage even more visible), and replied, "Why, thank you, your Majesty."

He smiled sheepishly. "Ahm...so...what are you making?"

The mage smiled broadly. "_Well_, while perusing The Wonders of Thedas, I found a book on medicinal herbs. _Within it_, there is a recipe for something that I believe will help us...um...well, help _me_ with that certain..._idea_...of yours." Her smile was devious.

Alistair's eyes widened. "_Yes, __**definitely**__ awesome_," he thought.

"I'm _almost_ done with it. While I finish up, could you get the awareness incense from my pack and set it out?"

He nodded emphatically. Nearly tripping from his haste, he moved to retrieve the incense from under the fluffy shawl and the tall leather boots she wasn't wearing.

Alistair rounded the corner and placed the incense about the bedroom. At the far night stand, he gave the last stick a curious whiff.

It was **euphoric**. Everything slowed down and yet...felt..._more_.

The lit torches' flames more _golden_.

The grinding of her mortar and pestle more audible, more..._sensual_.

The scent of her concoction **even** more _inviting_.

His saliva in more..._abundance_.

From around the separating wall, she asked, "Oh, can you make sure the door is bolted too?" He felt heavy and floating at the same time as he moved. He managed to latch the door after a couple distracted attempts. With his high dissipating some, he shed the tunic he was suddenly too warm for and leaned with his back against the door.

Solona emerged with a vial of...something. It glowed pale blue but...glittered gold...too.

Shaking the sealed vial, she flicked her other wrist a few times to light the incense.

"What...do you have there? ...Lyrium?" he slurred.

She shook her head. Solona walked slowly, then slower, then with wavering knees to her love. Finally reaching him, she fell into him, nuzzled his neck to breath him in, then whispered into his ear, "It's your present".

He shivered at her words, not comprehending nor caring what she meant. She nipped his ear and giggled.

Pushing herself off of him, she tugged for him to follow her onto the bed. Alistair laid down and she fumbled the laces of his breeches. Succeeding and pushing them down, she remembered, "Pillows, pillows under you..."

He tucked the spare pillows under himself so his lower half was raised a bit. She queened him, leaning stomach-to-stomach forward to his erection, and uncorked the vial.

The cool yet, strange _heat_ of her concoction on his member was **incredible**. The tingling sensation only intensified when her warm mouth took him in.

His breath caught.

Her breasts grazed his lower abdomen as she worked.

The leather of her shift sliding past his chest.

Her-

She stopped.

"_Stop? Why stop..._" he thought.

Her neck was craned around, looking at him. Solona put the vial in his hand and said, "You, too."

"_Ah, that's right_" he recalled.

He unstoppered the vial and splashed some of the liquid onto his finger. "More."

"Okay," he said with a content smile, obliging her.

Solona swished her skirt away and shimmied it up so Alistair could get to her. Lifting the front part away like a curtain, she grinned at him upside through her legs. As he painted her slit, her eyes closed and she hungrily took him back into her mouth. Once finished, he lower her down so he could reach and tried to concentrate.

He lapped her up and she took him even further in. She massaged his balls, ground against his attention, and then...something else.

The cool tingle of one of her fingers found its way..._into him_. And then she found some **electric** place within, he bucked and gasped. He felt her smile around him. "_Magic_," he thought.

He pulled her hips closer, determined.

Small currents of electricity arced from her to him. She squirmed, writhed, shuddered, and then...a tremor went through the Gnawed Noble Tavern with her release. The incense smoke slowly billowed from under the door and outside through the suite's cracked windows. The bartender and Sophie's guard shook their heads. "_Herbalists_," they each thought. Zevran quirked a smile into his wine.

Her scream around his length and her attention to that, _that spot_, undid him. ...He felt her swallow. Now _he_ smiled into her. With a last kiss on her inner thigh, he coaxed her off.

The exit of the smoke sped their return to normal post-orgasmic elation. Flipping to embrace her waist and kiss her clammy chest, he asked, "See! Was that so hard?"

"It was _salty_, I'll have you know," she said with a sidelong glance, kissing his head's crown.

"Even with your salve? What _**is**_ that, by the way?"

"It's made with fresh ice and swift salves and a grounded up glamour charm for the sparkles."

"Am I a magpie? Seems more descriptive of something Shale would like if you ask me. Ever made anything sparkly for her? Is there something I should know?" he asked, teasingly.

"Uh, what? **No**, my lecherous almost-templar," she teased back. Poking his ribs to tickle him and fleeing his impending retaliation, she scampered around the dividing wall.

"Oh no you don't!" He caught up, grabbed her, and tickled giggles and snickers from her.

"Truce!" she begged.

"On the condition that you bathe with me. Do we...have any more of the incense, by chance?" he asked, his voice lilting hopefully. He paused his assault in suspense.

"No," she paused dramatically, "not yet. But I **am** an herbalist, you know." She winked up at him.

"Have I mentioned that I love you?"

She cast an ice spell toward the tub, melted the ice with a small flame blast, and heated the resulting water.

"Not today, no," she replied with a mischievous grin.

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><p><strong>AN**: Solona is wearing the Witch's Robes: dragonage. wikia. com /wiki/ Robe_of_the_Witch


End file.
